i, ego i, am a complete contradiction of myself. i long for madness, depravity, long nights of confusion, rusted raw awakenings in unknown places with strange people. i hope to be among talented people in a crowded room and find myself. i wish for this eager need for sanctuary and wholeness to subside.
i reached a quiet death on a misty evening in the throes of a bad trip. i have delved deeply into my madness. i have explored utter darkness of my mind in sick depression, staring blankly at the walls at 4am 4pm watching them move and slide as my eyes distort, ill and alone with nothing but my thoughts to occupy the space, too ill to move, to sick in the mind not to.
i have touched God in myself, out of myself, beyond myself and in you, so many a time, and finally found IT resting in me, and as me, and it is quiet and empty. and all that is left is this all encompassing IS-NESS.